


incomplete combustion

by goldminegoldmine



Series: homin [2]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:49:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldminegoldmine/pseuds/goldminegoldmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a Monday, Changmin says, “I jacked off to your music video eleven times.” Then he says, “We can talk about it later.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	incomplete combustion

**Author's Note:**

> [read this first!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4267491)

On a Monday, Changmin says, “I jacked off to your music video eleven times.” Then he says, “We can talk about it later.”

Yunho doesn’t listen, because Yunho never listens. He starts to speak, and Changmin reaches up to cover his mouth. “Don’t ask me to explain, because I can’t, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know why I was so fucking. Yeah,” Changmin says, shrugging helplessly. “I’m sorry that I. Forget I said that.”

Yunho doesn’t say anything. Changmin is still resting his head on the top part of Yunho’s chest.

“Who the fuck wrote that song anyway? Jesus.”

“Was it really that bad?” Yunho’s arms are relaxed over Changmin’s shoulders and he chuckles. “I thought it was pretty tame compared to some of the other stuff we’ve done.”

Yunho’s fingertips are resting on Changmin’s back, loose and relaxed, and it has Changmin’s chest tightening. He buries his head against Yunho’s neck and blinks against him, overwhelmed by his lack of reaction. He almost wants to take it back because this is Yunho. Yunho is Changmin’s bedrock, and Changmin feels like he’s buried a stick of dynamite five feet down. He crosses his fingers. His back is starting to hurt from bending, but he doesn’t feel like being taller than Yunho right now.

“Your eyelashes tickle,” is the next thing Yunho says.

Changmin lets out a laugh that edges hysteria.

“Are you okay?” Yunho asks, and his voice is normal, such a familiar sound of concern, and Changmin is _not_ going to cry in the same moment as he confesses his fucked up attraction, but he feels dangerously close to it.

“Fuck you,” he says instead.

“I, uh. I don’t know what else to say. I’m. Flattered? That I came across well in the video?”

Changmin stands up straight, and it feels like being opened up and exanguinated to be leeched of Yunho’s warmth.

“Sersiously? I tell you I get off to you and you’re worried about your image?”

“I mean, I –“ Yunho scritches at his short hair. Changmin is distractedly displeased that he’s had it cut by someone else since the first time. “What am I supposed to say?”

Yunho is blushing, which makes Changmin’s insides roll and twist around each other.

“I don’t know,” Changmin says, almost pacing. “Call me a freak, tell me to move out, whatever, just…”

“We don’t even live together,” Yunho says. And then he says, “I don’t mind, either way.”

Changmin can’t look at Yunho anymore, and he wishes he’d never opened his mouth, never watched the video, never met Yunho, never auditioned for SM.

“Okay, well. This has been fun,” Changmin says. “Should we get take out or should we go sit somewhere? Or I guess I could cook.”

Yunho smiles in the way that he does when he’s about to speak fondly, and Changmin really, really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, so he sets his face in his best firm glare and says, “Hyung. What should we do for dinner.”

Yunho grabs his hand to tug him towards the car, and if it makes Changmin’s stomach turn over and land low and uncomfortable in his body, no one has to know.

-

As usual, spending time with Yunho is wonderful.

As usual, Changmin cooks and Yunho smiles at him from across the counter. Changmin stares at Yunho when Yunho isn’t looking, and he stares when Yunho is looking because why the fuck not. Yunho just smiles at him, warm, like nothing is strange.

Changmin spends the evening with his blood thrumming, reluctantly and constantly hoping that Yunho will do something daring, like ask to sleep in Changmin’s bed, or confront him, or yell at him, or kiss him.

He keeps dropping down into his own mind. Sinking abruptly into fantasies like: what if Yunho got up from the table, strode over to him, took the glass out of his hand and licked the wine out of his mouth. What if Yunho, in the middle of the night, snuck into Changmin’s room and got on top of him, blanketing him, rocking down. What if Yunho did something as innocuous and small as kissing Changmin on the cheek, in passing. What if –

None of these things happen.

Yunho sleeps on Changmin’s couch and he doesn’t acknowledge any of the embarrassing things Changmin’s said and done. Changmin only watches him breathe for ten, maybe twenty minutes at the most. And then he goes to bed, and he doesn’t dream about Yunho, and Yunho leaves the next day.  
  
With a hand on the doorknob, Yunho says, “I have another break at the end of the month. It’s longer, we should do something fun.”

Changmin chokes on his own spit and says, “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Yunho comes forward and Changmin just stands there until Yunho’s arms are around him. He smells like Changmin’s hand soap and deodorant, and Changmin can feel the dip in his back between his muscles. His palm bridges Yunho’s spine and it has his whole body wanting.

Yunho whispers in his ear, “If you want to talk about it, call me. Anytime, okay?”

And then he’s gone.

Changmin sits down on the floor right there. It suddenly feels like the last 24 hours never happened, like Changmin dreamed them up. He closes his eyes.

-

Changmin can't figure out how to save voicemail on his new phone. 

He feels like a child, angrily clicking through tutorials and pushing buttons with too much force. He spends hours trying, getting nowhere, and when he accidentally deletes one of Yunho's messages, he almost chucks his stupid giant, expensive phone across the room.

Except he doesn't. His phone winks awake and Yunho's smiling face looks up at him from the screen, and Changmin couldn't bear to see it shatter, so he sets it down carefully and punches a dent into the armrest of his couch instead.

He doesn't give up.

As an international celebrity, Changmin has resources. So he books a recording booth, plays Yunho's messages out loud for a microphone, and saves the files to his computer.

It's ridiculous and embarrassing and he hides the files where no one would ever look, and he never looks at the play counts, and he hates himself for being so desperate to hear Yunho's tinny, compressed voice. But at the end of every message Yunho always says "I love you" and it's completely, undeniably worth it.

-

On a Wednesday, Changmin decides to talk about it. He’s practiced and everything, what he’s going to say. He’s got it down. But he calls Yunho and Yunho picks up on the first ring, and Changmin forgets everything he’d memorized. He almost forgets his own name. So he fumbles his way through a fifteen minute conversation, barely hears anything Yunho says, and then Yunho is saying that he has to go, and Changmin doesn’t confess anything at all.

He decides he should probably just enlist now, that way he’ll be out at the same time as Yunho and they can deal with it then. He even gets a form, but he doesn’t fill anything out. Not quite yet.

“Not yet” is what Changmin says to every Yunho-related impulse for the next three weeks. He can barely stand to look at himself in the mirror by the time Yunho arrives on his next visit.

-

Yunho is cutting carrots.

He’s humming and cutting carrots and moving around Changmin’s kitchen like he’s been doing for years, but Changmin’s stupid heart is kicked into high gear anyway.

Yunho is wearing a loose blue t-shirt that’s almost too bright, too royal against his skin. Changmin wants to memorize the way it drapes over and hangs down his shoulders.

There’s a little yelp and the humming stops. Yunho’s cut his finger with the tip of Changmin’s sharpest knife. He hisses in and Changmin can see the blood welling up even from four feet away. Before he realizes he’s moved, he’s up and over and has his mouth wrapped around Yunho’s finger. The taste of Yunho’s blood blooms across his tongue and he laps the drop up with his tongue before he comes back to himself.

He freezes.

Yunho’s eyes on him are wide.

Changmin’s jaw drops open and Yunho’s finger slides out of his mouth.

“Uh. Sorry,” Changmin says around the taste of Yunho’s _blood_ in his mouth, _fuck_.

“Changdol.”

Yunho’s cradling his hand to his chest and staring with his wide eyes and the start of a smile on his face.

“You’re gonna bleed on your shirt,” Changmin says. He steps forward, reaching out.

And then Yunho goes and puts his finger in his own mouth, a smear of red on his lip, and Changmin chokes on the air in his throat. Yunho’s sucking on his finger, and his eyes are smiling. _Fuck_.

When he pulls his finger away to really smile, his finger is wet and his bottom lip is shiny, and Changmin really does hate him.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Yunho says.

“I hate you a lot,” says Changmin.

He’s standing close still, close enough for Yunho to look slightly up at him, and Changmin’s mouth tastes metallic and it’s really kind of gross, but then Yunho says, “Okay then,” and surges forward.

And holy shit, this is happening, Yunho’s mouth is opening up around Changmin’s upper lip and one of his hands comes up to press against Changmin’s stomach and he moves his mouth slightly, firm, still sort of smiling and Changmin can _feel_ the shape of his smile.

He smells so good and he tastes so different and his Yunho, his hyung is _kissing him_ and suddenly Changmin can’t breathe. He fists his hands in the front of Yunho’s shirt to push him away and keep him close at the same time. The little sound their lips make disconnecting is loud in the room.

“Fuck,” is all Changmin can say. It’s all he can think, and – Yunho sways back towards him and their hips bump – it’s all he wants to do. “What the fuck.”

“Come on Changminnie, this has been a long time coming.”

“What the fuck, hyung.” Changmin is talking right at Yunho’s nose, they’re so close together.

“I was waiting for you to say something, I didn’t want to push you,” Yunho says. “But god, you can’t just tell me you get off watching me dance, you can’t just. Put my fucking finger in your mouth and expect me to.” He huffs out a sigh on Changmin’s chin. “I can play coy, but I’m not _that_ good.”

“I never meant to tell you,” Changmin says, but he can’t say he didn’t mean it and he can’t take it back, doesn’t want to, and Yunho just _kissed_ him but he’s not kissing him anymore, and Changmin hates that.

He groans a little, hauls Yunho to him with his handfuls of t-shirt and bites down on his lip. He bites down on his hyung, his leader, his Yunho’s bottom lip and moves so that they’re pressing all against each other. Yunho is so solid, and his lips are so soft. Changmin is overheating and sort of shaky and then Yunho lets out a little whine into Changmin’s mouth. His tongue pushes in against Changmin’s, skates over his teeth, and Changmin is going to pass out any second.

It’s too much, he feels almost dizzy, and he pulls away. Still clutching Yunho with one hand, Changmin slumps over and rests his hot forehead against the cool marble countertop.

“Changminnie, are you okay?” Yunho’s smiling voice asks.

“No,” Changmin says. He won’t ever admit that it almost comes out as a whine. “This is too much, how is this happening?”

“It’s happening,” Yunho says, and then his hand is under Changmin’s jaw, lifting his chin, picking his head up off the counter. Changmin looks up  to Yunho’s face right there in front of him. So close, his hyung’s whole beautiful face, his regulation haircut and his slightly wet lips.

He kisses Yunho. He _kisses Yunho_.

Takes hold of his slightly rough jaw and kisses him, pulls on his lip, licks into his mouth. Somehow, in this kiss, Changmin’s head clears enough to leave him acutely aware of how Yunho’s mouth tastes, what his teeth feel like against his tongue. The way Yunho’s hands land low on Changmin’s waist, his thumbs coming around so that he’s holding Changmin’s whole body tight in just two hands. How their bellies and hips and chests are pressing together, how they’re leaning into each other.

Changmin feels like he’s burning up, smoldering uncontrolled from the inside out.

Yunho pulls away first. Somehow, he’s still smiling.

“I can’t believe how long this took,” he says, chuckling and breathless. “I can’t believe you didn’t jump me the second you saw me.”

Changmin manages a glare. “I’m not an animal, hyung, please.”

Yunho doesn’t answer. His gaze fixed somewhere below Changmin’s eyes. Changmin opens his mouth to defend himself further, and then Yunho surges forward, yanks the loose neck of Changmin’s shirt over his shoulder, and sinks his teeth into the thickest part of the thickest tendon in Changmin’s neck. 

“Fuck,” Changmin says, loud and caught off-guard, but then Yunho rolls his hips deliberately up and. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groans.

Sparks are landing all along his neck and arms and face and flaring up into little craters of fire on his skin. Yunho bites again, lightly, at the bone on the tip of his shoulder. Changmin’s head is clear, too clear, too focused on the little spikes of pleasure that dance through him when Yunho sneaks a hand up into his hair and _tugs_ just a little.

“Have you… did you… when I told you, what did you –” Changmin stammers, not really wanting to talk but really wanting, _needing_ to know.

“What did I think when you told me out of nowhere that you’ve jacked off to my music video?” Yunho nips his skin again.

“Y-yeah. That.”

“Well.” Yunho kisses the side of Changmin’s neck. “First, I thought you were joking. Though that would be a weird joke, even for you.” He kisses again, higher up. “Then I thought it was weird, thinking about you like that. Thinking about you thinking about me like that. My dongsaeng, my Changminnie.” He hums the nickname up against Changmin’s jaw and Changmin is shivering and he can’t stop. “But then I thought about it, _really_ thought about it, fucking you. You wanting to fuck me.”

Yunho sucks on his jaw, sharp, and Changmin lets out a long “Ahh –”

“And then I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Yunho pauses, comes up to kiss Changmin hard and fast, just tasting inside his mouth in a flash of tongue and teeth. He pulls away and puts both his hands on Changmin’s face, gentle.

“Look at you. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous, obviously, I’ve always known that, but.” He brings his hands around, through Changmin’s hair, over his shoulders, down his back, slow slow slow and dragging. “But you got me thinking about actually touching you, tasting, and –” he pushes his hands up under Changmin’s shirt, his palms hot on Changmin’s skin, and he digs his nails in, not too hard, just enough to sting. “Honestly, how could I resist?”

And fuck if Changmin knows what to say to even begin to respond to that, so he just whines, high and pathetic, and rolls his hips forward, hopes it says things like, _“you’re gorgeous too, obviously”_ and maybe, _“you asshole, we could have been doing this for so long.”_

But Yunho’s not done talking. He squeezes Changmin’s waist and leans into him impossibly more, whispers right against his ear, “Now that your wildest fantasies can come true, what are you gonna do with me?”

And god, that’s a wide-open invitation. That’s the green light for Changmin to voice every filthy fucking detail, every little thing he’s thought about for the past few months. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know where to start, but Yunho’s cock is hard in his pants and it’s pressing against Changmin’s thigh and that’s as good a jumping off point as any, so.

“I’m… I’m just gonna. Fuck,” Changmin stammers, and he drops to his knees, hard enough to hear a crack against the wood floor. Yunho’s hand is immediately in his hair, threading it through his fingers, light and firm.

And then Changmin is face-to-face with Yunho’s dick in his jeans and he almost pitches forward, rubs his face on it. He wants to feel Yunho, all of him, right now, but instead, he groans and fumbles to get the button undone, hands shaking, feeling the five sparks of Yunho’s fingertips on his scalp.

“Have you thought about this, Changdol?” Yunho asks, pulling lightly on his hair. Another embarrassing, desperate groan spills out of Changmin’s mouth and yes, the button finally pops open.

“Too many fucking times,” Changmin growls before leaning closer, grabbing Yunho’s zipper between his teeth and tugging. It’s not as smooth as he thought it would be, and it kind of hurts with the metal between his teeth, but as he edges it open his nose brushes up against Yunho’s dick through his boxers and it’s so completely worth it.

Yunho’s hand leaves his hair and Changmin looks up to see Yunho tugging off his shirt, his stomach and chest thicker and stronger than they were a few months ago and his skin stretching up, so soft and warm looking. Shirt tossed away, Yunho meets Changmin’s eyes. Changmin chokes on a sound and Yunho’s dick twitches, right there pressed up against Changmin’s face. Because of Changmin.

And Changmin has never been a fatalist about this, has never really ruled _out_ the possibility of this happening, but there’s no way in _hell_ this is real. He breathes in.

“Are you trying to tease me, Changminnie?” Yunho giggles, fucking giggles like Changmin isn’t kneeling for him on the kitchen floor.

“You can tease me back later,” Changmin says.

“I’ll definitely take you up on tha-”

Yunho is cut off as Changmin yanks his pants and boxers down to his knees. Yunho’s cock springs up and smacks Changmin right in the face, and that just by itself probably makes it into the top three best things that have ever happened to him in his whole life.

And now that he’s right there, all of Yunho’s skin, his cock hard and right up close to Changmin’s mouth, he can’t even bring himself to tease. He can’t do anything but stare, mouth open, filling with saliva embarrassingly quick. He flicks his tongue out to taste the slit where it’s shiny, and _fuck it_ he feels so desperate and he can’t care anymore so he just sinks down, stuffs as much of Yunho’s cock into his mouth as he can in one go. God, that’s good, Yunho stretching his mouth out wide and pushed down his throat. Changmin groans around him, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“ _Fuck,_ Changminnie. So good.” Yunho is panting above him and Changmin moves up, sucks hard, flicks his tongue under the head. It’s overwhelming, Yunho’s taste and his smell and he’s filling Changmin’s mouth completely and then Changmin makes the mistake of looking up.

He meets Yunho’s eyes, his dark dark eyes and his furrowed brows and his dropped open mouth, bitten bottom lip. Changmin bobs back down, Taking Yunho to the base, and his eyes are watering and he feels cracked open in unexpected ways, but he doesn’t break eye contact. Yunho lets out a long, low sound and it’s like it slides down from Yunho’s throat through his body and into Changmin’s. Yunho’s hips buck up just the tiniest bit, his control slipping, and if Changmin could smirk he would. Instead, he pulls away almost completely.

With his lips resting on the tip of Yunho’s cock just to maintain the contact, Changmin says, “Hyung, fuck my mouth.”

Yunho reaches down to touch Changmin’s top lip, right in its center. “Are you sure?”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “Of course I’m fucking sure,” he says, and to prove it he drops his jaw, opens his mouth as wide as it will go. He looks up at Yunho and waits.

Yunho goes slow but he doesn’t go gentle, just eases his dick past Changmin’s mouth, steady until Changmin’s nose presses into the hair on his belly and Changmin’s eyes, his skin, his cheeks are burning with how much he wants this. He swallows around Yunho’s cock.

And then Yunho fucks him for real, gets his hand all knotted up at the back of Changmin’s head to hold him there, pulls out almost all the way and pushes back in. Changmin’s eyes sink closed on their own and everything is almost too much and Yunho’s holding his hair so tight that it hurts, but Changmin has never been this hard in his _life_ and his mind seems stuck on a loop of _Yunho, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho, Yunho, Yun –_

“F- fuck Changminnie, you’re so good,” Yunho says. His voice is cracky and rough and it makes Changmin feel a staggering rush of satisfaction. He hums out a groan and Yunho moans in response.

Yunho fucks his mouth – _Yunho fucks his mouth_ – and Changmin will never be able to sing after this but it’s okay.

When Yunho tugs extra hard on his hair and says, “Changmin-ah, move,” Changmin shakes his head minutely and sucks. Yunho comes in his mouth in pulses and this, this _definitely_ tops the list. Yunho’s _come_ is filling his mouth, salty and unprecedented, and Changmin can’t believe this is his life.

He also can’t believe they’ve only done this – so far – in the kitchen. Changmin deserves to see Yunho on expensive, soft, white sheets.

So he says, “Hyung. Bed. Now.”

Yunho steps out of his pants as he laughs and heads towards the bedroom, and Changmin hangs onto his hand. Yunho’s naked now, walking proud in front of him, and Changmin feels this overwhelming rush of _mine,_ looking over Yunho’s back, his shoulders, his ass, his legs, his bare feet.

Changmin, in a moment of self-awareness, realizes that he's still fully clothed. If he can see Yunho naked, Yunho should be allowed to see him naked too - it's only fair.

Yunho kicks open Changmin’s bedroom door. Changmin absolutely does not trip over his own briefs as he steps out of them, and his dick definitely doesn’t twitch when Yunho looks him over with dark, dark eyes. Yunho moves to lie on the bed, all his warm skin against the sheets, looking like he belongs there, looking at Changmin like he belongs there too, and Changmin can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, hyung, fuck me –” Changmin’s voice barely even counts as a voice anymore, and he moves forward as fast as he can, presses himself down and along Yunho’s body. He groans as they fall back, Yunho laid out underneath him, all their skin pressed together for the first time.

It’s ten times better than Changmin could ever have imagined.

He gets his mouth on Yunho’s neck, his collarbone, his shoulder. He bites across Yunho’s chest, rolls his hips against Yunho’s instinctively.

Yunho lets out a sharp “Ah” sound and fits his hands tight around Changmin’s hips. He flips them over.

Changmin gasps the air back into his lungs and spreads his legs a little. God, that’s.

“So good. Want more,” he grunts, reaching down between their bodies, trailing his fingers over Yunho’s belly.

But Yunho stops him. Grabs his wandering hand and pulls it up. He fits his hand around both of Changmin’s wrists.

“Mmm, later. It’s my turn,” he says, pinning Changmin down by his wrists and grabbing Changmin’s cock with the other. “So gorgeous,” he mumbles, jacking Changmin hard once, twice, again.

Yunho’s hand feels like heaven and his body weight and heat and scent feel even better. Changmin’s eyes flutter, his breath catching again and again on sounds he can’t stop from spilling out.

“Not gonna,” Changmin gasps, beyond embarrassment into something else. Something shameless and desperate and proud. “Not gonna fucking last, I’m –”

Yunho gives Changmin a fast, hard kiss, swallowing his words, and then he moves his head to the side and sinks his teeth into the meat of Changmin’s shoulder. Changmin yelps but he’s even closer than before. Yunho’s fist works fast and tight over his cock and his teeth stay buried deep.

“Fuck – ow – _fuck_ I’m gonna come,” Changmin gasps, and Yunho’s teeth rlease him, a new wave of pain making him whine.

Yunho says, “Good,” and shimmies down Changmin’s body to watch.

And god, to describe how it feels to be right on the edge in front of Yunho, to have Yunho watch him fall apart like this. Yunho, naked, on his bed, hand on his cock, watching his dick leak onto his belly –

“Next time I’ll fuck you,” Yunho says,his face nearly level with Changmin’s asshole. Changmin’s whole body whites out as his orgasm breaks in his belly. He’s not sure if he’s ever come this hard in his life, and a high-pitched whine breaks out of his throat as Yunho pets him – his thighs, his chest, his sides – through it.

“Holy shit,” Changmin pants, breathing hard. “Holy fuck, we have to do that so many more times before you leave.”

Yunho chuckles. Changmin opens his eyes to see Yunho lean forward, to watch his pink tongue come out to lick up the come on Changmin’s belly and he almost gets hard again right then.

“You’re not even real,” Changmin whines, head bouncing back down onto the bed.

Yunho finishes cleaning him up and wriggles up the bed. He kisses Changmin’s cheek. “That was amazing,” he says to Changmin’s ear like a secret.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Yunho brushes his fingertips over the crescents of bite marks on Changmin’s shoulder. “Did I actually hurt you?” he asks, frowning.

Changmin’s ears heat up but his limbs still feel weightless. “No. I liked it.”

“Well, obviously,” Yunho says and bites Changmin’s jaw, light. “More of that later. Let’s nap now, Changmin-ah, what do you say?”

Changmin just hums, eyes already half closed. He lets Yunho jostle them around until Changmin’s on his side, knees bent, and Yunho is spooned up behind him, solid against his back, arm heavy and warm over his waist. Yunho nuzzles into his hair, the nape of his neck, his ear. Maybe Changmin’s just tired and wrung out and oversensitive, but his eyes are stinging and he presses back into Yunho, floats in the bubble of his warmth.

Before Changmin can drift off completely, Yunho whispers in his ear. “You got me so high baby. Burning down, yeah.”

Changmin groans, longsuffering. “I hate you,” he says.

Yunho kisses his shoulderblade. “No you don’t.”


End file.
